


Erik Lehnsherr’s Glorious Fuck Up of A Day

by Phantomlimb



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Being Concerned, Charles is a Professor, Embarrassment, Erik fucks up, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is a Big Dorkface, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomlimb/pseuds/Phantomlimb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But like a naive, desperate fool, he had wanted advice on how to impress one Charles Xavier. He didn’t know that would cause World War fucking Three.</p>
<p>In which Erik fucks up and keeps fucking up to the point of being sent to a hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erik Lehnsherr’s Glorious Fuck Up of A Day

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written with my good friend Marium. She handled Charles' pov and I handled Erik's. Now I know I haven't updated for awhile but look alive because in like two weeks, there's going to be so many updates you may need to make time.

He was irritated beyond belief. Stupid kids, stupid job, stupid fucking Azazel volunteering him for this shit. He had wanted to spit at Shaw’s smirk but his mother had taught him to be better than that so instead he’d just sneered at the man and ‘accidentally’ tripped him. Now not only was he late to this stupid speech he had to give for these dumb architect majors but he had also spilled coffee on his coat.

_His good coat_.

Damn this day to hell.

He had just about slammed the door to the classroom open, not caring that he had made a lot of noise. He strode into the classroom and walked up to the Professor’s desk, putting his messenger bag down. He looked around the auditorium and saw that it had filled up with quite a few students. Great.

“My name is Erik Lehnsherr and as you all should know, I helped make the building you’re sitting in right now. Listen to what I have to say and you’ll learn something. Fail to listen and I’ll make sure you’ll be building a McDonald’s,” he said, finishing that statement off with a smile that looked like it belonged in SeaWorld’s shark tank.

The auditorium filled up with murmurs and Erik was having none of that. He cleared his throat and the room shut up. He started writing on the board (a blackboard, how peculiar). He went about explaining the basic things every architect should know. He made sure the students were actually taking notes. They were but they looked incredibly confused. Erik felt like that showed just how good of a teacher he was since he was obviously smarter than a college student. Actually he was smarter than most people. He had just put down the chalk for a second when he heard someone open the classroom door and  say something.

“I’m terribly sorry I’m late, it was raining and there was traffic-”

“Yes yes, who cares though? Take a seat or you’ll be sitting in the hallway,” Erik said, not even bothering to turn to address the late comer.

“Uh…”

“ _Did I stutter_?” Erik asked, turning around to face this imbecile, only to find himself staring at a rather attractive looking man in tweed.

Ironically enough he looked like a Professor-

Erik stopped breathing. _SHITshitshitshitshithewasgoingtomurderAzazelshitshitgoddamnitfuck_

The attractive man frowned at him and asked “I’m sorry, do-do you know what classroom you’re in?” in a charming English accent.

Erik clenched his jaw and looked the man dead in the eye and  said “Room 221: Architecture 201.”

He looked at the small, brunet man, hopeful he’d nod his head and agree with him and maybe go out for a drink with him haha what

“My friend, this is room 215: Genetics 101,” the Englishman said in a worried tone.

_Fuck_.

“Of course it is,” Erik murmured as he collected his stuff and skulked off in a hurry, fighting off the blush that was threatening to grace his face along with the urge to fling himself out of the nearby window.

One of the students laughed and Erik turned, ready to-well, ready to do what Erik Lehnsherr usually did when someone laughed at him. The Englishman seemed to sense this and actually stepped forward in an attempt to stop Erik should he try something, Erik wanted to laugh.

And cry ~~mostly cry~~ , god this was embarrassing.

 

****

Charles had expected a few scenarios of what would be happening when he walked into class late: people would be dozing off, people would be chatting loudly, people would be disrupting other classes, but most probably people would be setting fire to everything in his genetics classroom and using his desk as an altar to make sacrifices to the trickster gods of a cult he  had long suspected a fair few of them were part of (What? Most of these kids were fresh out of high school and even he was not going to make the mistake of thinking they were anything other than loud, hormonal, demonic time bombs). He was not expecting, however, for everyone to be sitting in their seats stiffly and paying rapt attention to the board, where somebody was teaching what looked to be a class on architecture.

Wait.

_What._

After quickly making sure that he was not in the wrong classroom (nope, this was definitely Room 215), he arrived at the only conclusion that was as embarrassing as him going into the wrong class, which was that the stranger (very attractive from the back at least, not that Charles was oogling or anything) was teaching the wrong class. Charles attempted to voice this, when the strange man (equally as attractive from the front. Speaking scientifically, of course)  turned around to face him with a very angry look.

“I’m sorry, do-do you know what classroom you’re in?” Charles asked. There was a beat where the man’s eyes widened in panic, but his voice remained impressively impassive when he said, “Room 221: Architecture 201” with such confidence that Charles nearly believed him for a moment.

For a moment.

“My friend, this is room 215: Genetics 101,” Charles said, and the very attractive man (Charles wondered if he could ask him his name. And out on a date.) collected his stuff very coolly and began to walk off.

Until a student laughed, and the man turned to face the offending pupil with a glare that made Charles afraid for the student’s life. Wishing to avoid bloodshed, he moved himself strategically between the two and was just about to say something to placate the man and reprimand the boy when the man set his jaw and stalked out. Charles stared after him for a moment before remembering that oh yeah, he had a class to teach.

“...Alright, class. My apologies for the interruption but if we could all open our textbooks to Chapter 5, and begin our unit on mutations?”

****

“See if I ever do another god damn speech ever again, Azazel!”

“Quit, whining. You’re just embarrassed that the Professor saw all this and was cute. If he’d been ugly, you wouldn’t have cared,” Azazel said, through the phone.

Erik grit his teeth.

“The next time I see you, _my foot is going to be so far up your ass every time you cough you’ll taste my Italian leather shoes_ ,” Erik snarled.

Azazel just hummed in amusement which just furthered Erik’s anger and he already had a problem with his blood pressure so he hung up on him. Which was a mistake.

“Hello there, I didn’t quite catch your name back in the classroom,” the attractive Professor from earlier said.

Erik was conflicted with the idea of either running away or curling up into a ball right then and there. Either way, the Professor was still looking expectantly at him as he waited for an answer and he’d hate to disappoint him.

“Erik Lehnsherr,” he grunted.

God he was even more attractive than Erik had remembered. _Christ._

“ Well Erik Lehnsherr, my name is Charles Xavier and I must say, you actually did teach my students today. I’m slightly afraid you’re a better teacher than me because they’ve never been that quiet before,” Charles chuckled.

Erik didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or pleased so he went  for both.

“You give me too much credit, Mr. Xavier-”

“Charles. Mr. Xavier was my father and I’m not quite that old yet,” Charles smiled. A thousand-watt smile that could light up the world, _holy shit what kind of toothpaste did this guy use?_

__

“Charles, then,” Erik said, letting the name roll on his tongue. He tried for a tentative smile that, hopefully, wouldn’t make him look too much like a shark.

Charles seemed to take this as encouragement to talk some more.

Not that Erik minded, especially with that mouth.

“So I take it you didn’t want to do this speech for Architect students?” Charles asked, blue eyes gleaming with a hint of mischievousness.

Erik’s eyes widened and he asked “ Did-did you hear my phone call?”

Charles winced a little and said “You were rather loud with your threats.”

“Yes, well now you not only think I’m incapable of finding a room but that I’m also a barbarian and for that I apologize. If you’ll excuse me ,” Erik said, tired of being the fool as he made to leave.

Charles, however, was not done with him just quite yet.

“I don’t think you’re incapable or a barbarian,” he scoffed.

“Charles, I helped build this damned building, you’d think I’d know where all the rooms were,” Erik growled.

“That’s a lovely accent I hear, eastern European?” Charles asked, changing the topic.

It worked, surprisingly, and soon the two of them walked over to the near by coffee shop, talking like old friends.

“Say, I hope I haven’t read this wrong...” Charles said, timidly which was unlike the man.

“But I rather like you and I’d like to have dinner with you if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” Erik blurted out before he could shut his mouth.

Charles beamed at him.

“It’s a date then.”

What a date it would be.

****

It wasn’t necessarily that Charles was nervous for his date with Erik, it was just that he’d been out of practice for a while so it was perfectly alright to be a bit cautious and play it on the safe side. At least this what he told himself as he looked himself in the mirror and straightened his collar for the twentieth time. He smiled a little as he decided that he looked presentable before nope, nope, no way, this shirt was way too formal and the poor shirt joined half his closet on his bedroom floor.

Dammit.

Okay, fine. He was a little nervous.

Raven found him thirty minutes later, sitting on his bed half-naked with the majority of his closet’s contents strewn everywhere, looking desperately into the void of the wardrobe as if hoping it would magically shoot a suitable shirt out at him.

“Are you redecorating your room? I can’t say I like the look,” she gestured, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and worry. Mostly amusement though.

“There is nothing I can wear,” Charles said dramatically. Raven stared pointedly at the pile of garments that could have been used to clothe a small country and then gave him a lewd grin.

“Don’t you usually just wear a condom?”

Charles glared ineffectually.

“Alright, alright, grumpy. I’ll help you,” she sighed, bending down to pick up a formal black shirt and inspecting it thoroughly, “What’s got your knickers in a twist? You never dress for dates. I would know, I’ve stopped you from wearing atrocities that would make any sane person want to punch you in the face for offending their eyes in such an invasive way.”

Charles continued to pout. Raven continued on, uninhibited by the silence.

“Who is it? A guy? A guy. You always ask me for advice outright when you’re going out with a girl. Here, wear this,” she said, throwing a casual button down shirt at him, “It brings out your eyes. Anyway, why’s this guy so special?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Does he have a big dick?”

Charles had the manners to look scandalized.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend you don’t look. But seriously, tell me about him.”

“Well, his name is Erik Lehnsherr. He is an architect and we had the most unusual meeting…” Charles began. This was also how Charles ran late for his date.

****

Erik sat on his bed with his head in his hands as he continued to hear what was giving him the biggest fucking headache known to man.

“Azazel, I don’t care how many people you bed monthly, you still dress atrociously!”

“But do _I_ act like I have a stick up my ass? No. Do you want me to say it in Russian? нет.”

“Listen here you red faced fuck, I will literally take off my heels and _gouge your eyes out before I let Erik walk out the room with what you picked out for him_ ,” Emma said, leering dangerously at Azazel.

Azazel sneered at her and said “Is that a challenge?”

“ _Will the both of you shut up?_!” Erik roared as Azazel and Emma started to circle each other predatorily.

They both looked at him with mild  annoyance which made Erik glare at them.

“Erik, honey, this doesn’t concern you. Azazel is just trying to assert his dominance because I let it slip that he’s got the tiniest penis anyone’s ever seen. Not that they’d want to,” Emma drawled.

Azazel’s face broke out into utter rage and he thundered “TINIEST PENIS?! I’LL SHOW YOU-”

“If you pull out your dick in my room right now, Azazel, I swear to God and everything holy that I will personally cut off your cock and _feed it to Emma’s prize schnauzer_ ,” Erik growled.

That shut Azazel up.

Back to square one.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you two in,” Erik said, rolling his eyes as he looked around his room.

Clothes, condoms and different assortments of lube were scattered everywhere. It looked like an orgy had happened in Erik’s room and sadly, he had not been part of it. It had been the late afternoon when Emma Frost, CEO of Frost cosmetics and Erik’s best friend, had knocked on his door and let herself in. Erik knew he couldn’t turn her away, not unless he wanted to be found dead in a ditch with a Chanel Number 5 bottle lodged in his throat.

Azazel, however, Azazel he could have shut the door on.

But like a naive, desperate fool, he had wanted advice on how to impress one Charles Xavier. He didn’t know that would cause World War fucking Three.

“Erik, we’re trying to help you,” Emma said impatiently.

“You’re trying to _destroy each other_ ,” Erik grit out.

“That’s not-”

“Azazel don’t even open your mouth because my patience has worn thin and I will punch you,” Erik said, not even bothering to look at Azazel.

Azazel scoffed.

“Look, you mean well but I’m going to wear what I want to wear. The point of this date is so that I eventually won’t have to wear _anything_ ,” he said with a smile.

“And we’re rooting for you, sweetie, we really are. But everything you choose makes you look like a hobo from the 90s,” Emma said, unimpressed.

He needed new friends.

Charles and he had agreed on meeting at a quaint French restaurant just outside of Manhattan. Erik had been there before and he knew Charles would enjoy it, the man obviously had good taste, after all, he found Erik attractive. Erik in turn found him attractive but the problem was he seemed too perfect to be real and while Erik was very good with his act of wham, bam, thank you ma’am, Charles had already witnessed him fail.

Drastically.

He hoped this dinner wouldn’t be as bad as today’s beginning had been.

****

Dinner went exactly as terrible as the day’s beginning had been.

It had started out pleasantly enough. Charles had met Erik outside the restaurant and had apologized profusely, even though he had only been five minutes late, and had very conveniently not mentioned how many traffic laws he had broken in order to be only five minutes late. They had gone into the restaurant and had been seated near the back window where  the waitress had taken their order (They had both ordered something called Truite Sauté Sauce Amere) and all the while Charles had done a truly marvellous job of not drooling even a little at the sight of Erik in a leather jacket. Their food was delicious and they had chatted amicably as they ate.  All in all, it had seemed like the set up for the perfect evening.

Until.

“Ah-choo!” Erik had sneezed. Charles had stopped in the middle of his tirade (honestly, he knew he could get a bit long winded at times, but he could never seem to stop himself) and grinned at the entirely adorable sound.

“I’m sorry, are you allergic to my tedious lectures? I’ll stop,” he had said, half-jokingly.

“No, no! Absolutely not!” Erik had said with conviction. He had looked up at him with watery, red eyes and for a moment Charles had been absolutely confused. Then his heart stopped.

“Erik?”

“Yes, Charles?”

Charles had stared, open mouthed, at the red splotches appearing on Erik’s neck. Oh shit.

“I was only kidding before, but darling, I think you really might be having an allergic reaction,” Charles fought down quickly rising panic.

“What? No, I’m not allergic to anything,” Erik looked dismissive and _holyactualJesuswhendidhisfacegetsoswollenfuckhewasgoingtodienoooooohe’stooatractivetodie we’ve only had one date the coffee shop doesn’t count_

“Yes, you are,” Charles had said and then he rambled (because rambling was what he did when he panicked so sue him okay), “ _Do you feel like you’re about to go into anaphylactic shock because you have to tell  me if you feel like you’re about to go into anaphylactic shock because then I have to call 911 okay? I can’t have you die on the first date, or ideally any date after alright don’t panic we’ll get you to a doctor and everything will be okay. Okay?”_

Then he had practically dragged Erik out of the restaurant and somewhere along the way had had the foresight to leave behind money for their meal. Frankly, everything after that had been a bit of a blur. A terrifying, terrifying blur.

And right according to plan, Charles Xavier ended up spending the night with Erik Lehnsherr. An emergency room, was however, was very decidedly not part of the plan.

****

“Boyfriend, come here, I need you to sign lover boy’s papers because the morphine we gave him has him knocked out,” Erik’s doctor, a burly looking man said gruffly.

“I’m not knocked out!” Erik had shouted.

The doctor gave him a completely unimpressed look and pushed the clipboard impatiently at Charles.

“But-but I’m not his boyfriend, well not yet,” Charles explained, smiling at the last part.

 

It was then that Erik was once again reminded that Charles was perfect and it was once again that Erik felt the need to smother himself with a pillow.

“Look, I don’t care, I’m the only doctor here tonight and I got like twenty different patients. You were having dinner with guy so I assume you’re together-”

“That was our first date,” Charles interrupted.

The doctor ( Logan was his name?) whistled low. He then turned to look at Erik and say “First date and you eat something you’re allergic to? If you didn’t like the date so much, you could of just made up an excuse to leave or phone a friend, loser.”

Logan then left a very conflicted Charles and a very embarrassed Erik.

“I-I didn’t know I was allergic to anything, you must believe me, Charles, I would never-”

“I know that, Erik. God, I may not be the best person to go on a date with but I’ve yet to bore someone into doing something so suicidal,” Charles chuckled.

“No no, you’re the best person to go on a date with. Which is why I’d like another date. With you, of course. If you’ll have me. I’ll try not to fuck it up again,” Erik said, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite being in a hospital gown that didn’t close in the back.

Charles laughed and Erik thought he was laughing at him for a moment but then Charles walked over to him and kissed him. As first kisses go, it was amazing. But it was not how Erik had envisioned it.

“Erik, are you pouting? I’m trying to kiss you.”

“Yes, well you’re doing a good job but the hospital was not where I wanted us to have our first kiss. Call me romantic but I wanted to do it somewhere that wasn’t a place that housed the dead and the sick.”

“So was I suppose to wait? Do you not kiss on the first date?” Charles asked, obviously amused.

Erik quirked an eyebrow and said “I don’t kiss and tell,” before grabbing Charles by the lapels of his coat and kissing him something fierce.

Charles ruined the effect by chuckling into his mouth.

“Hey! Take that somewhere else, your boyfriend just got like scary amounts of morphine and he’s about to-”

“Erik?” Charles asked, worried.

But Erik had already knocked out and Charles couldn’t help but take a picture because honestly, Erik had no right to look sexy awake and adorable asleep.

**  
“I hate couples,” Dr. Logan grumbled as he grabbed Erik’s paperwork and left.**

**Author's Note:**

> As always, leave your thoughts in the comments. I'd really like to know if you guys would like more Cherik written between Marium and I


End file.
